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By Darren Anthony. Directed by Kimahli Powell. Until Oct. 3 at The Music Hall, 147 Danforth Ave. 416-778-8163 or themusichall.ca

Comparisons may be odious – or even odorous – but they are also inevitable where Darren Anthony's Secrets of a Black Boy is concerned.

Anthony's big sister is trey anthony, author of the phenomenally successful 'Da Kink in My Hair. And it was trey who not only encouraged her brother to write Secrets but is also producer/dramaturge for its short run at The Music Hall.

The structure of both plays is virtually the same. A group of black people get together (women at the hairdresser's in Kink, men for a game of dominoes in Secrets) and a series of secrets begin to spill out, usually presented via a dramatic monologue.

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Kink, however, featured several blazing performances and stories that were truly gut-wrenching. It's a level of intensity that Secrets never comes close to matching; indeed, a couple of Secrets' monologues – the story of the murder of young drug dealer Curtis, wife-beater Jerome's plea for sympathy and understanding – are somewhat flat and unconvincing.

Where Secrets does score is the way it connects with its audience; it certainly doesn't shy away from controversial issues such as interracial dating and absentee fathers. There were shouts of recognition from Saturday's audience as the play turned the spotlight on such hot topics as the apparently limited love-making technique of some black males and the lack of emotional support that black men feel they get from their partners.

I asked one audience member what she felt about that last point. "He (the playwright) has a point," she said with a shrug.

Director Kimahli Powell has adroitly shaped the play according to the abilities of his performers, a couple of whom – Samson Brown as Biscuit, Darren Anthony himself as Jerome – lack a certain amount of technique.

What might have been monologues in Kink are ensemble pieces in Secrets.

Al St. Louis has charisma as Sheldon, however, and Eli Goree (Jakes) and Shomari Downer (Sean) are both quietly effective.

The use of music, with DJ O-nonymous actually onstage, adds to the atmosphere, as does Glenn Davidson's graffiti-scrawled set.

It is honest and forthright, with some delightful touches of humour. "They pulled me over for speeding when I was walking," one guy complains.

And while it may never reach the heights (or plumb the depths) of Kink, Secrets is a worthy, occasionally compelling piece by a promising new playwright.

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